Spinning
by strykemeister
Summary: Rigby, feeling a bit sick, makes a jerk of himself in front of everyone, and winds up in a post-apocalyptic alternate universe where all of his friends are wastelanders. Can he get back to his reality, and by then, will he even want to? Rigby/Eileen. Indefinite Hiatus.
1. 1 2 3

**A/N: This isn't exactly a crossover, but just think what it'd be like if you mashed up Regular Show with Fallout. Basically, an alternate universe of Regular Show that's post-apocalyptic. I'm a huge fan of Rigby/Eileen so that's going to develop throughout the story, and Mordecai/Margaret too, because it would be weird to have one and not the other. This takes place in almost entirely in Rigby's POV, but POV can switch from time to time because I said so.**

**1**

Have you ever woken up feeling like you took a spin in the dryer overnight? That's how I felt. Hot, sticky, nasty, and dizzy as hell. I sat up, groaning, and saw that the sun was just starting to light up the park. Everything that I could see was smudged around like someone did a bad job trying to erase it all.

I tried to wipe away some of the sweat from my arm, but something felt... I don't know, weird. Squinting, I took a closer look.

"What the... No, no, no, no..."

A bald spot. And that wasn't the only one.

Shaking, I threw off the pile of clothes I curled up under every night. My bed was _covered_ in loose fur. "_This is not happening,"_ I hissed, under my breath. My blurry eyes darted to Mordecai, my best friend and roommate, and I could just barely make out his snoring form on the other side of the room.

Urgently, but as quietly as I could, I darted out of the room and into the bathroom. My limbs didn't seem to want to move, and it hurt to make them. As soon as I was hidden I locked the door and flipped on the light. Immediately I regretted it. My whole brain was stinging. I flipped the light back off and glanced into the mirror, my nightvision still fairly adequate.

_Oh, crap, it's worse than I thought..._ I let out a miserable groan and sunk to the floor. I looked like I'd been assaulted by duct tape, and today was supposed to be some kind of party thing. (I think I heard Benson say it was the park's somethingth anniversary.) There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone see me like this.

"Okay, Rigby, think. You can, uhh... uh.." Thinking was really hard, too. Harder than usual, anyway. "...just cover it up. Yeah... I'll wear a jacket or something." Luckily, most of the bald patches were on my body and arms, and not so noticable anywhere else, though there were a couple on my head.

Still, I felt like death. I figured I was probably sick or something, but there was no way in hell I was going to let anyone see me like this. It'd probably just pass soon, anyway. I'd just have to cover up until the fur grew back. Probably.

**2**

I really didn't feel up to it, but Benson put us on snack bar duty. Mordecai was raising an eyebrow at me, which made me feel really stupid. I was barely visible behind sunglasses, a beanie, and a coat, which practically left just the lower parts of my legs exposed.

"What?!" I snapped, feeling even more heat come to my already hot face. For some reason, even though I was wrapped up, I still felt cold and hot at the same time.

Mordecai blinked. "Dude, what's with the outfit? It's not even that cold out, yet." Freaking blunt, as always.

"It's... it's nothing. Why do you _care?"_ I stammered, unable to think up any kind of witty retort. Nothing unusual there.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, mm-hm. Fine," I muttered, avoiding his irritating stare.

"Then why are you shaking..?" he asked, frowning at me.

"It's cold," I said through grit teeth. I hadn't realized I was shivering.

"Hey, ladies," came the most grating, gutteral voice ever.

"Oh, god." I buried my face in one hand as our coworkers Mitch (a.k.a. Muscle Man, though any muscle the guy had was buried under a thick layer of green pudge) and High-Five Ghost (yeah, that's his name, I'm not even kidding) came wandering over.

"Woah. What's with that outfit?" asked Mitch, mirroring the expression Mordecai had given me moments ago.

"That's what I said, but he won't tell me anything," said the blue jay beside me. I grunted under my breath.

"Well, if you're tryin' to look like a _loser,_ you sure are doin' a good job of it," said Mitch, cracking a smug grin. The corner of my mouth twitched a bit.

"Look, why don't you just mind your own business!" I snapped, as a flock of park visitors approached. Thanks to the stupid anniversary, the park was more packed than ever. It was going to be a long day.

"I don't know, man, you are acting pretty weird..." admitted Mordecai, walking over to the register. _Today can't get any worse,_ I thought bitterly to myself.

"Um, can I have a blue snow-cone, please?"

"Hey, Eileen. Sure."

Somehow I choked on air.

"Hey, Mordecai. Hi, Rigby." She was staring right at me, of course. I didn't even have to look at her to know that much.

My stomach did a flop and I turned away, mumbling what I thought could pass as a greeting.

"Is Margaret here with you?" The desperation in Mordecai's voice was as obvious as the stale odor wafting from Muscle Man.

"No, she couldn't make it, but she'll be at the after party." _God, just, please go away._ I wasn't sure why, but, the thought of her seeing my patchy, messed-up fur made me feel even more nauseous than the thought anyone else seeing it. Maybe because she was a girl or something. I mean, it'd be bad enough if one of the guys saw it, but her..? "Are you cold, Rigby? I've got some mittens if you'd like to use them."

"You know who _else_ is cold?" started Mitch.

"Uh.. your mom?" asked Eileen, as if she really wasn't sure. You could tell she hadn't been exposed to Muscle Man that much. I was kind of jealous. I reluctantly handed her the snow-cone and she moved aside to make room for the other customers in line. I felt like I was in quicksand. Everything was tiring.

The grin dissipated from Mitch's face. "Uhh... yeah. My mom!" And as the punchline was delivered, he and HFG high-fived, as always.

"Would you just shut up? Man, you're giving me the worst friggin' headache," I growled, holding my head. And because my luck was determined to get worse and eventually trainwreck, our boss Benson appeared.

"Hey, Muscle Man, High Five Ghost. I'm gonna have to ask you to postpone that -"

"No! _You _shut up, baby, and take off that stupid hat!" yelled Mitch, snatching at the beanie before I could tighten my hold on it.

"NO!" I cried, my voice cracking as the hat came off and with it, the glasses.

Quiet. All eyes were on me. A sick, crushing feeling that stuck to me like glue.

I stumbled back and fell against the counter. Sweat poured off me, my heart racing, and my mind was a frantic blank. Mordecai's mouth formed words, then Eileen's. Muscle Man's turned up in a sadistic smile. I couldn't hear anything.

"Just - just leave me alone!" I wailed, sprinting away as if they all had knives turned on me. I wasn't even sure where I was going, but next thing I knew, I was buried under the clothes in my bed again, covered in my own detached fur. I felt numb and stupid, and closed my eyes. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore.

**3**

(Mordecai's POV)

That evening was the after party. Unlike the anniversary event, which was public, this was just a small get-together for us workers, and since I invited them, Margaret and Eileen. Pops, Skips, Benson, Muscle Man, and High Five Ghost were already playing games (of both the board and video variety), talking, eating snacks, listening to those lame mainstream pop songs. It wasn't really much of a party, but it wasn't lame, either.

"I get that you're worried and all, but I really think he wants to be alone right now," I said. Eileen was staring up at me with worried eyes.

"But you're his best friend! Shouldn't you go see what's wrong with him?" she asked, fidgeting restlessly.

I sighed and made sure no one nearby was listening, before saying under my breath, "It's obvious that he's embarrassed about that shedding thing, but I don't know what to do about it. He probably just needs to relax. He was sleeping last time I checked on him."

Eileen frowned at the floor, and I felt kind of bad. For as rude as Rigby was to her most of the time, she was a pretty nice girl. And she wasn't exactly ugly or anything. Kind of cute in a mousey, librarian sort of way, if you were into that thing. Though, to be honest, Rigby wasn't nearly as asinine towards her now, after that camping trip we went on a while ago.

"Maybe if I just-" she tried again, raising her head with a bit of hope.

"No, trust me. That's a bad idea," I insisted, trying not to sound like a total tool. The doorbell rang before I could say anything else. "Yes!" I murmured under my breath, sliding over to the door in one smooth movement. I ran my hands through my feathers and opened the door.

"Hi, Mordecai." When Margaret smiled at me, it was like that feeling you get when you beat the secret ultra-hard boss in that one video game you poured hours and hours into. I leaned against the door frame and grinned at her.

"Hey. You look fantast_ic,"_ I said, right before losing my footing and falling backwards._ Oh, crap,_ I thought, a look of horror spreading across my face. _Crap, crap, crap!_ When I looked stupid in front of Margaret, it was like getting a game over after you get that secret ultra-hard boss down to those last few hit points.

"You should be more careful," she laughed easily, taking hold of my arm to steady me.

"Uhhh, thanks," I mumbled stupidly, blushing. She laughed again and walked inside, releasing my arm. I mentally berated myself for being a clutz.

"There you are, Eileen," she said, walking over to the shorter girl. I pushed the door closed and followed.

"Oh, hi," she said back, as if she barely even registered that her friend was present. Without really saying much else, she idly made her way to the punch bowl.

"Is she okay? She seems kinda out of it," puzzled Margaret, sending me a concerned glance.

"She's just worried about Rigby," I sighed, slouching a little.

"I'd be worried, too, if I was going bald," snorted Mitch, who was only partially-immersed in the game of Strong Johns he and Pops were playing. Pops was struggling, even with the handicap all the way up.

"Ohh.. eh.. how do you jump again?" he asked, holding the controller upside-down.

"Jeez, Muscle Man, let it go already, I'm starting to get pissed," I snapped, balling my feathered hands into fists. I remembered Margaret was right next to me and mentally smacked myself in the face. "I, I mean it's not cool. Rigby has feelings, too."

Margaret smiled at me again, and I relaxed. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad.

"I'll show _you_ what happens when you laugh at me!" came a sudden miserable wail.

"What - ?"

Before I could even finish that sentence and turn completely around, something cold and wet crashed over me.

And by extension, Margaret, too.


	2. 4 5 6

**A/N: Wow, I'm amazed there are actually people reading this. Thank you. I love you. Also, le gasp, violence and swearing ahead (eventually). In this installment, Rigby makes it into the actual plot device, I mean, alternate reality.**

**4**

(Rigby's POV)

"Dude! What the heck was that for?!" said Mordecai, soaking wet. A puddle of water had gathered at his and Margaret's feet. I hadn't meant to get her, but whatever. For some reason, he looked more shocked than embarrassed. Margaret was looking down at her wet clothes with wide eyes.

"How do _you_ like it? Huh?!" I asked, gripping the empty bucket tightly in my trembling hands.

"Like _what,_ I don't get what I did to provoke that!"

"Don't lie, I know you were laughing at me!" I shouted, my voice raw from the strain.

"That's not true! Mordecai was sticking up for you!" exclaimed Margaret, brushing some of the water off of her.

"Sh-shut up..!" I said, squeezing my eyes shut as another wave of dizziness hit me.

"You know who _else_ likes to be covered in buckets of wet stuff-" began Muscle Man, but I cut him off by hurling the bucket at him. It barely grazed his shin. "Ow," he said, mildly annoyed.

"Stop talking," I said, but it was more like an exhausted plea than a demand by this point.

Benson, of all people, stood up and took a few steps toward me. I tensed, suspicious. "Okay, Rigby, that's enough. Nobody's making fun of you, so quit throwing stuff." I expected him to scream out "or you're fired," but he didn't. In fact, he kind of looked... "Anyway, are you all right? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Stop trying to act like... you care, or something stupid like that," I said, wavering helplessly.

"But Rigby, we _do,"_ said Pops, frowning at me as if his feelings had really been hurt. "No one's going to laugh at you because you've gotten a tad mangey."

Muscle Man said something through a cough that Fives grinned at.

My eyelid twitched and my whole body stiffened with rage and humiliation. "I. HAVE. NOT," I growled, narrowing my eyes at them.

Skips finally took his turn to criticize me. "All right, we get it. You're upset because you look a bit stupid. We all have our bad days, but-"

"No! Stop! None of you care!" I cried, as that quicksand feeling almost pulled me to the floor. "None of you give two _craps_ about how I feel-"

A hand caught mine. It was small and soft and dr_y_.

"Rigby, please don't say that!"

My heart stopped.

"E-Eileen?!" If I had known she was there, I wouldn't have even bothered going downstairs. Even through all of my fur, my face was a bright red.

She was watching me with those stupid, pretty, soft brown eyes of hers. I couldn't make much sense of the look she was giving me, but it was like a mix between sadness and, I don't know, frustration?

"You - you - don't look at me!" I cried hysterically, pushing her away. She fell down to the floor, and I suddenly felt like a huge jackass. She didn't seem hurt, but the look on her face tore something up inside me, and I knew there was no taking it back. She looked like she might cry.

"What's your freaking problem, man?!" shouted Mordecai, stomping toward me.

"How could you do something like that?!" Margaret bent down to help Eileen up.

"I - I-" My mind went blank again. I threw open the door and ran into the night. For an immeasurable amount of time, all I knew was fear. Deep down, I think I knew they didn't mean any harm, but my head wasn't working.

So I ran.

**5**

Gravity pressed down on me. My eyes didn't want to open. Still, I made them.

"Ughh.." I groaned, trying with difficulty to sit up. I still felt warm, but I could tell the air around me was cold. I tried to recall what just happened, but that was cut short by a whopping migraine. I looked around, groaning.

It looked like I was an abandoned house. It was musty, dirty, and peppered with cobwebs. I looked to the left, and saw a space between the boards on the windows. _That must be how I got in._

My stomach did another flip and before I knew it, I'd thrown up. "Sick," I muttered, spitting in a lame attempt to get the taste out of my mouth.

The sun had completely set and I couldn't see much of anything. Faint outlines. Except for one thing...

There was a cracked mirror in the corner of the room. One of those fancy, full length ones that stand on the floor. In it, my reflection was as clear as day.

But it wasn't the reflection I expected to see. In it, I had... an eyepatch? My fur was no longer patchy and falling out, and I was wearing a leather vest with what looked like a pump-action shotgun strapped to my back. Instead of a decrepit living room, I was in some dry area in the middle of the day, with hard, packed dirt and almost no plantlife.

"Man, I really must be losing it..." I edged closer and put my hand up to the glass to poke it. "Kinda cool though."

I didn't expect my finger to hit nothing.

"What the-?!" I retracted my hand for a moment, my reflection with the eyepatch doing the same. After some hesitation, I stuck my whole hand through, and felt the warmth of the summer sun. Cautiously, I stuck my head through, and then the rest of my body.

**6**

I looked down at myself. Now wearing the vest, eyepatch, and shotgun, I was just as I'd appeared in the mirror. "Sweet," I said, feeling refreshed and oddly healthy. I turned to look back at the mirror, to find that it was gone.

The smile dropped from my face. "That's not good."

A noise caught my attention, interrupting my attempt to not freak out. It sounded like a kind of hissing with a slight rattle. I turned my head and reflexively leapt back, just in time to miss a swinging claw from a freakish giant crab.

"Holy crap!" I screamed. It was about half the size of a car, with four arms topped with vice-like claws that looked like they were itching to snap my head off. It was kind of greenish, which I thought was odd, but I was too concerned with my own life to think about it much.

"Eat this, ugly!" Automatically, I whipped the shotgun from my back and hit it point blank in the face with a shell. Crab brains splattered over the ground, and I let out a celebratory scream. "Yeaaaa-yuh! How do you like that, stupid crab thing?!"

Then I lowered the shotgun, my eyes wide. "Wow. Did I really just do that?" I looked at the dead crab. I looked at the gun in my hands. "Guess so." I barely knew anything about guns, but for some reason I'd been able to use this one as if it were some kind of instinct. "Cool," I said, grinning. "I can't wait to tell Morde..."

My smile disappeared and the memory of my humiliating outburst came surging back. My stomach practically hit the floor. "Nuts." Not that it mattered, anyway, until I could find a way to get back home. I returned the weapon to my back and sat down on the ground, feeling sorry for myself.

"Man, I really messed up. What the heck was wrong with me? Come to think of it, I don't even remember anybody other than Muscle Man laughing at me. Why'd I freak out so bad?" Contemplating my severe overreaction, I idly lifted up the eyepatch and set it down a few times. I was now apparently blind in my left eye, but it was still there.

"Well, that's just great," I grumbled, staring out at the endless, vacant horizon. "Wait a second..." Squinting, I got to my feet. It was hard to see out that far, but I thought I saw some buildings. I perked up a little. "Hey, if there are people over there, they can tell me how to get back! And then I can fix all this crap."


	3. 7 8 9

**A/N: Hello hello. Thanks for the comments, I love them. All. So much. Keep them coming, they're like crack. Remember, this is an ALT UNIVERSE story so things can get UNCOMFORTABLE. Like I said if you can't handle a bit of ~violence~ and *mature stuff* don't say I didn't warn you.**

**7**

The buildings were farther away than I thought, but I was feeling weirdly energetic, so it didn't really matter. As I got closer, I saw that they were surrounded by a high, unclimbable fence with barbed wire lining the top. The larger building looked like some kind of warehouse.

At the gate, I saw a familiar figure with long, greasy brown hair and an unflattering build. It took me a moment to register who it was, since he was in a really awkward, spikey getup that looked like something you'd wear if you went to a death metal motorcycle show.

"Game shop guy?" I asked, tilting my head.

"The name's Roger," he snapped, sneering at me. I noticed some huge metal glove-like things on his hands. More weapons? "And I have no idea what you're referring to."

"Shyeah, whatever! This is one of your stupid role playing game fantasies, isn't it? Take me back!" I folded my arms, hunching forward pessimistically.

He was giving me an irritated look. "Did you take too many bullets to the head?"

I smacked myself on the forehead. This was getting me nowhere. "Ugh, whatever. This seems too cool to be something of yours, anyway. Where am I?"

The game shop guy shook his head and heaved a pissy sigh. "Seriously? You're at Benny's Skivvy Stop."

"Underwear?"

"Not those kinds of skivvies."

"What kind of skivvy, then?" I asked, blinking.

Whatever his name was heaved a second sigh and opened the gate, motioning for me to go inside. "Just come on in, we could use the business anyway..."

Since standing out in the open waiting for giant crabs to come eat me would probably get me nowhere, I followed him inside. He took me to the smaller of the two buildings, after locking the gate behind us. "Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but you have a guest," he said, knocking on the door.

The door opened and I nearly gagged as Benson answered us, smiling an uncomfortably wide smile. He was wearing a freaking tailcoat. Granted, it was dirty and torn up in places, but it was most definitely a tailcoat. "Hey, there, I'm Benny. Welcome to my shop! Come on inside, and I'll lay down the basics, okay?" Rupert (or whoever) headed back to the gate. I was too completely dumbfounded to say anything, so I just went along with it.

**8**

I was sitting in a stiff, plasticy chair across from the desk Benson was at. He looked happy. Disturbingly happy. He kept going on and on about something, but I was having a seriously difficult time listening.

"...those other places, but believe me, those aren't quality goods, not at all! Here at Benny's Skivvy Stop, our skivvies are raised with love and care."

I stared at him blankly. _What the heck's a skivvy?_

A thin, wimpy looking guy in dirty clothes stepped up to Benson, who's expression instantly changed to the bitter scowl I knew him for. "Not now, I'm busy." The wimpy guy fidgeted anxiously.

"Uhh, hey, I was wondering, do you know what's going on around here?" I asked, unable to word my question in a less stupid way.

"Come again?" asked Benson, staring at me blankly. I scratched the back of my arm. "Ohh, you're not from around here? What brings you to the West Wastes?" he said, sporting another friendly, oblivious smile.

"A mirror," I muttered.

"What?" He blinked.

"Nothing."

"Umm, p-pardon my intrusion sir, but there's been a bit of a.. thing..." The guy looked like he was about to piss his pants. Benson frowned again, eyebrows lowering.

"What kind of thing, you ingrate?"

The thin guy hesitantly bent down and whispered something to Benson. His globelike face reddened and his mouth twitched. When the guy was finished, Benson's words came through a clenched jaw.

"Then bring her in here and get back to work, or you're _dead_." The way he stressed that last word made my fur stand on end.

The other guy pulled back, terrified. He disappeared behind another door, and then two rough-looking guys came back, restraining a small girl. She was struggling wildly. They threw her down between Benson and me. She landed clumsily on her hands and knees.

_"Eileen?"_ I whispered, in disbelief. Benson and the game shop guy being here was one thing, but her? And what the hell were they doing, throwing her around like that?

Benson stood, towering over her like she was at the bottom of a crater. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" He was holding back again, I could tell. It was always creepy when he did that.

Eileen got to her feet, and I saw that she was wearing a ragged dress. She glared up at Benson with uneasy defiance and contempt, her eyes glossy and wet. "I'm never going to work for you, okay? Never! I don't care what you guys do to me!" she cried. _What the heck's going on?_ None of it seemed possible, even in an alternate reality. Even Eileen standing up for herself was hard to believe.

Without warning, Benson smacked her to the ground. Her loose hair hang around her head, hiding her face. I gaped, horrified; unable to move. Was that what it looked like when I shoved her? A massive brick of guilt smashed across my face. _Oh god, I'm the scum of the Earth._

"You should know better than to talk to your superiors that way," said Benson, almost boredly. Eileen trembled, but was silent. I couldn't breathe, even though I was taking in air.

"Take her out of here," he dismissed, nodding casually towards the door before turning to sit back down. The two henchmen grabbed her by the arms and hoisted her up. She didn't resist this time.

"Wait, wait!" I said, jumping on top of the desk and holding up my hands.

Benson frowned at me, like he wasn't sure if he would like what I was about to say. "Yeah?"

"This is a slave shop, isn't it?" I asked, trying to keep calm as it all came together in my head.

Benson raised an eyebrow. "You mean, you actually came in here without knowing that? I thought you were a customer."

I grit my teeth and took a deep breath. This was not good. Eileen may have been an awkward, nerdy girl, but I couldn't just let them treat her like dirt! "Yeah, well, how much is she, then?"

A slow grin spread across Benson's face. "How much have you got?"

"...About three bucks."

His face soured. "You're kidding, right?

**9**

(Eileen's POV)

Who _was_ this guy?

"Yeah, uhh, I'm not exactly rich, but maybe we can crack a deal?" He looked strong, smart, and capable. He looked like somebody who really knew how to get things done.

He... looked incredibly attractive. So why, in all that was logical, was he trying to buy _me?_ There was nothing special about me.

"No, I mean, why do you have paper money? That stuff hasn't been used since before the Big Hit! Where did you even find that garbage?" mused Benny, laughing with a slight sense of arrogance.

"Huh? Big Hit?" The rugged stranger stared down at his useless currency questioningly. Butterflies partied inside my stomach. I had to look away. "Well, hey, if this stuff is that rare, then it must be pretty valuable, huh? Huuuh?" He grinned, waving the money around Benny's face.

Benny swatted his hand away like a gnat. "No. Not at all." He was starting to get bored with the conversation, and that wasn't good for me, or the handsome rogue.

"Uhh... what do you use, then?" he asked, blinking.

Humoring him, Benny reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change, which he dropped on the table. It made a pleasant chinging noise as the coins hit each other.

The stranger smacked himself in the forehead. "Shoot. I should've brought my penny jar," he grumbled under his breath.

"So you're broke, then?" said Benny, crossing his arms. "You two, take her away," he said, poining to the thugs that were restraining me. My heart sank to the floor. True, I'd rather be free than a slave, but I'd also rather be dead than remain in the Skivvy Stop for the rest of my life. "And you," he continued, turning back to the stranger, "get off my property. If we can't do business, we're useless to each other."

The stranger muttered something under his breath before speaking up again. Why was he trying so hard? As far as he was concerned, I was just like any other slave, if not weaker, smaller... "Benson - er, Benny. Whoever you are. I'll be back, okay? With money. Lots of money. So dont, like, hurt her or anything, got it?"

I got the distinct impression Benny didn't believe him at all. "Yeah, okay. Just make sure it's enough. Since she's so much trouble anyway, I'll sell her to you at a discounted price. 560 cents. They usually go for a lot more, so I'm practically giving her away."

The rogue got down off the desk and stopped in front of me, looking oddly restless. "Hey, don't worry, okay Eileen? I'll be back for you." My face glowed bright pink. How did he know my name?

At the last minute before he headed out the door, he turned back to Benny, glaring. "I mean it, Benson! If something happens to her, I'm gonna have to put the hurt on you!" He karate chopped at the air.

So hot.

"Take her to the cage," snapped Benny, after my mysterious rogue had left. "And why did he keep calling me Benson...?" he mumbled in afterthought.


	4. 10 11 12

**A/N: Hello again. Thanks so much for reading, guys. Just to let you know, I've only been able to update this daily so far because I haven't had work all week. Gotta go back Saturday, though, so updates will slow a bit. I'll try to update at least every couple of days, though. For those of you who've been waiting for Mordecai, here's the chapter for you. Also, because I have some mild art skills I drew Rigby and Mordecai as they appear in this universe. To see it, go to heart0ffender (that's a zero, not a capital o) dot deviantart dot com. You could also just go to my profile and click the link. I have two sites, my deviantart and a blog (that is sometimes NSFW). It's on both sites.**

**10**

(Rigby's POV)

"Craaap, what am I gonna do?" I paced back and forth outside of the fence that enclosed Benny's Skivvy Stop. Sure, I'd left all confident, but where the heck was I going to get money in such short notice?

"Not that it's any of my business or anything, but you could always head over to Scraptown. You _might_ be able to find some work there. It won't be fun, though." The game shop guy was watching me apathetically from the other side of the gate.

"Well, how far is it?" I snapped, agitated.

"About three miles that way." He raised his massive arm and jabbed it to the right. "Just look for a small group of buildings that look like they're defying the laws of gravity by just standing up."

"Thanks." I started off, but stopped after a few steps. "Why are you helping me, anyway?" I asked, leering suspiciously.

"You're kind of bugging me, and I need my 'quiet time,'" he explained, leaning on the gate. I grit my teeth and tried to come up with a biting, intelligent insult.

"...Well, you're.. ugly! Super ugly!" And I bolted, cackling. Sometimes I'm too cool for my own good.

By time the sad excuse for a town came into view over the uneven, rocky terrain, I had slowed to an exhausted crawl. _Man,_ I thought, panting heavily, _How the hell do those adventurer-types _do_ this stuff?_

Like Randy had said, it looked like Scraptown shouldn't have been capable of staying upright. The name of the town suited it perfectly. It was less than twenty buildings (if you could call them that) made apparently out of whatever kind of crap the people could find. One building even had bike tires as window frames. It literally looked like a junkyard with doors in the piles of trash.

"Ughh..." I groaned, slouched over. I was tired. I just came three freaking miles and now I had to do even _more_ work, then rush all the way back over there. _Maybe I should just call it a night and finish it tomorrow._ It wasn't even close to being dark out yet, but I didn't really care. Tired was tired.

"But if I wait that long, Eileen could..." I wasn't sure what they might do to her, but I didn't like anything that popped into my head. "Arrrgh, this sucks!" I exclaimed, kicking viciously at a rock and stubbing my toe. "OW! Dammit!"

"What sucks?" came a calm, semi-interested voice.

**11**

"Mordecai?" I asked, my jaw dropped. He looked so _cool._ Well, not as cool as me, but still pretty cool. He had on a ripped, sleeveless hoodie and a shredded T-shirt underneath it. He was also wearing mud-caked combat boots too, and for some reason there was a stop sign laying on the ground next to him.

"Wrong," he said casually, not even bothering to open his eyes. He was laying under pretty much the only tree I'd seen so far that still had a few leaves on it, his arms folded under his head. "The name's Mad Man Mordo. Looks like I'm gonna have to start correcting people again."

_That nickname you use when we wrestle?_ "Uhh, anyway, lemme guess, you're some kind of bounty hunter, or something?" Despite my bemused tone, I was really glad to see my best friend in this universe. Unfortunately, he wasn't really my Mordecai, just like Benny wasn't really Benson, and that girl wasn't Eileen, but in this place, he was as close as I was going to get to the real thing.

"Nope, but you're more accurate than most people, I'll give you that." He yawned and stretched, clearly enjoying himself. Lucky jackass.

"Well, what are you, then?"

"Any of these guys in there'll tell you, I'm a thug and a murderer," he said with a wide grin. That didn't sound like Mordecai at all, but this place didn't make much sense to me, anyway.

I shook my head, remembering that I came here for a reason. "Look, man, I'll talk to you later. I've got something I have to do."

"What kind of something?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"There's.. somebody I have to save," I said with slight embarrassment.

For some reason, he seemed to find that interesting. "Hmm. Eh, I'll be here," he said with a shrug.

I reluctantly hurried into town. I desperately wanted to take a break and talk to Mordecai more, but I knew that getting Eileen away from Benson was more important, and everything else would have to wait.

**12**

I looked around the small town for some kind of hint as to where I should go. All I saw were a bunch of beggars, and some slightly less dirty-looking people walking around. None of them really looked like they had cash to spare. I spotted what I thought was a restaurant and almost headed inside, when an unmistakably recognizable laugh caught my attention.

I went into the nearby building it came from and found myself staring at another one of my friends. "Pops?" I asked, smiling a bit.

"Oh, why hello, my good man," he said, pointlessly overjoyed as always. He was sitting behind a counter made out of ironing boards with sheets over them. "You must be looking for a room. How wonderful of you to have chosen my hotel over everything else!"

"There's more than one hotel in this place?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ehh.. well... no. But you've come to just the right place, I assure you!" he cried, smiling again. The thought of rest tempted me greatly, but I was broke, and I remembered why I came in the first place.

"Actually, I was wondering if you had any work available? I kind of need some money, as soon as possible. It's for a friend..." I picked at my fingers restlessly.

Pops sighed airily. "I'm terribly sorry, young wanderer, but there's just nothing to be done here at the moment. I wish I could help, I really do. The whole town is in a bit of a financial slump, if you haven't noticed."

"The whole town _is_ a financial slump," I muttered under my breath. "It's cool. I understand." I tried not to look completely ungrateful, but I don't think I was doing an awesome job at it. "I'll come back if I ever get some money and need a place to stay, all right?"

"Ohh... yes, of course." Pops sounded genuinely sorry as I left, and I felt kind of guilty for indirectly depressing him.

I growled to myself as I walked out of the hotel. So they were all as broke as they looked? "Freakin' mirrors," I grumbled, cursing the stupid thing that had brought me here in the first place. I smacked into something solid and fell back on my ass. "What the _heck,_ man?!" I screamed, pissed at the whole world.

I opened my eyes to see Mordecai holding his hand out to me. "I've been thinking about what you said, Rigs." Dumbfounded, I took it and he helped me up.

"Rigs?" I asked, blinking.

"It's your name, isn't it? It's in the back of your vest." I craned my neck around, trying to look at my back. It threw me off balance and I had to take a few steps this way and that to keep from falling. All I succeeded in was getting a bad cramp and looking pretty stupid.

"Uhh. Sure. I guess so," I said, giving up.

"Oh, I get it. You're the kind of guy that doesn't really like to talk about himself, huh? I can respect that. Anyway, I'm getting pretty bored with this town. Everyone here thinks I'm some kind of psychotic bandit just because I killed a few guys in self-defense on my way here."

"You did?" I asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, but it's not like they were that strong or anything," he dismissed, shrugging slightly. "You said you wanted to save somebody, right? I could probably help you out. I'm good with that kind of stuff." He grinned, looking proud of himself.

"It's not that kind of thing. I just need money to pay a slaver," I sighed, kicking the dirt.

"Money? Just use good, old-fashioned violence!" he said, laughing.

"But there's like a whole bunch of guards and stuff," I whined, laying my ears back.

"So? You've got Mad Man Mordo on your side, man, and _I've_ got a _reputation." _Jerk. I wanted a reputation, too. "Besides, it could already be too late by the time you get that much money."

"I... guess you're right," I admitted, taking that into consideration. It would probably be pretty cool beating people up, too. Just like a real life video game. I already knew I could operate the shotgun flawlessly; who's to say I couldn't take out a whole slave operation, too?

"Great! Then it's settled! Let's go kick some ass!" exclaimed Mordecai, swinging his massive stop sign up onto his shoulder. I flinched as it almost grazed my side.


	5. 13 14

**A/N: Only two chapters this time. Sorry guys, but the second chapter's like twice as long as usual, so it's almost like three chapters. Lots of action this time, so I hope you like that kind of thing. I'll try to update once more before I have to go back to work again. Also, with fighting comes violence, naturally. It's not that graphic, but you get the idea.**

**13**

(Eileen's POV)

Snap. Growl. Creak.

It was terrifying, at first, being suspended in the air like that, in the fading light of dusk. In a cramped, rusted, oversized birdcage above a small pack of violent, starving dogs. Never had I been looked at like that, before. Like a steaming, delicious plate of dinner.

After a while, though, the snapping jaws and clacking teeth, the deep gutteral growls and hungry eyes all started to lose their effect. Benny's terror cage wasn't really that bad, actually. After I'd calmed down and analyzed my situation, I saw that I wasn't really in any danger. The whole design was merely to induce fear. I was well out of the reach of those dogs' bites, and as threatening as they looked, they couldn't do a thing to me.

In fact, I was starting to feel pretty bad for them. They must have been just as miserable as I was; malnourished in this harsh, broken world, lacking even a small amount of proper affection, and beaten into a permanent frenzy by Benny's goons. How different would they have turned out if they were raised lovingly, with ample food? Now they were nothing but monsters, but at no fault of their own.

As the creaky cage rocked me back and forth, my thoughts drifted back to the dashing rogue. Maybe I was just a bit delirious from everything I had to endure that day, but looking back on what had happened, he seemed almost... familiar to me. Had I met him somewhere, once before? A long time ago, perhaps?

It was possible. Maybe I saw him in passing in my hometown, and forgot his face until now. But then again... he knew my name. I was sure I hadn't imagined that; he had clearly said my name, to my face. It sounded almost _nostalgic_ when he said it.

I sighed pleasantly, setting off another bloodthirsty bark-fest below me. I smiled, tuning it out. Was he really going to come back for me? It was a nice fantasy, but probably not. It seemed too good to be true. A stranger from my past, rescuing me from a life of slavery. I closed my eyes and wondered what it would be like.

The sound of gunshots cutting through the night air. Heavy metal objects crashing against human skulls.

...That didn't sound very romantic.

"Ooooooooooooh!" Two voices in harmony. My eyes snapped open. The dogs were going crazy again. Had I dreamed those sounds, just then? Oh god, I hoped not.

**14**

(Rigby's POV)

"Ooooooooooooh!" we chorused smugly, and it almost felt like I was with the real Mordecai, and back in my own reality. A good number of Benny's guards were strewn about around us, down for the count. A few more of them circled us nervously, brandishing their cheap, old, makeshift weapons. It gave me a proud sense of accomplishment knowing that I was the only one around with a working gun so far.

...Then again, I wasn't really sure what I was proud _for._ I mean, I'd had the thing since I arrived in this stupid reality. It wasn't like I'd scavenged for it, or learned the ins and outs of it all by myself. It was all just some kind of gimmick I was lucky enough to have.

"Hey Rigs, check this one out!" cried Mordecai, grinning, right before knocking one of the remaining guards upside the head with his ridiculous stop sign. Blood shot out from the guy's nose and sprayed the ground, which he fell onto shortly after.

"Haha, sweet!" I said, dodging a couple quick blows from a guy armed with a spear. "But you ain't seen _nothin'_ yet!" I cocked my shotgun once more and fired it point-blank at the nearest guard. His armor took up most of the spray, but a gap in his helmet left part of his head exposed, and down he went.

"Pretty good," said Mordecai, jogging over to me and the remaining guards, weapon at the ready. "I think I could get used to hanging around a cool guy like you."

"Screw this! I'm not gettin' paid enough to die!" proclaimed one of the last guards. He bolted past us and through the open gate. The final two hesitated. They looked at each other with an expression that said, "So, on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?" After coming to a solid agreement, they nodded and booked, too. Me and Mordecai were now alone, or at least it seemed that way.

My eyes sparkled. "Y-you think I'm_ cool?"_ Mordecai would never have admitted that so easily back home. No, I'd have had to do something pretty freakin' outstanding to catch his approval back there.

...Maybe I could get used to this place.

"Hey, watch out!"

"Huh?"

Before I knew it, my face was making friends with the ground. For a minute I wasn't really aware of much. Dazed, I raised my head, and saw Mordecai clashing weapons with the game shop guy.

Delayed, the sound finally reached my ears and the slow-motion effect I was experiencing sped up to normal speed again. "Crap!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. I snatched up my shotgun and reloaded it with fumbling hands, but at the same time a strange sense of expertise.

"Damn it," grunted Mordecai as Richard's boxy, metal punching glove knocked him roughly in the shoulder. Unable to hold his massive weapon with the sudden pain, it fell awkwardly to the ground. The game shop guy was about to make another thick jab at Mordecai's face.

"HEY! Step OFF!" I screamed, blasting his heavily-armored butt with a quickly-aimed shell. The force from the blast knocked him off his feet, and a few bits of shrapnel dug into his body through weak points in his armor.

"So you couldn't get the money after all," he said laborously through grit teeth, scrambling to his feet. "You know, it's not like you needed to come along, screaming like a lunatic, and gun us all down. What are you, some kind of badass or something?" He raised his huge fists and crouched for another lunge, ignoring the metal in his side. "Benny can't stand that girl. You probably just could have talked him into giving her up."

"I... could have?" I asked, bewildered, keeping my gun trained on him.

"God, you really are an idiot. Well, can't take it back now. Prepare yourself, ill-mannered rogue!" He came at me again, faster than I had expected. I was about to roll aside and out of the way when Mordecai came dashing in from the right, wailing like a maniac.

Distracted, I froze, and watched as he leapt on the game shop guy and, from what I could tell, punched him, before jumping off and landing in a skid on the ground. When Mordecai's fist made contact with Rupert's back, he cried out in what sounded like some serious pain, and crumpled to the dirt.

I saw that there was a hunting knife buried in the upper part of his back, right by his spine.

"Uhhh... sorry Rudolph," I said, lowering my shotgun.

"My NAME.. is ROGER," he roared, making every bit of his last breath count. And just like that, he was gone.

"Sweet, loot," said Mordecai pleasantly, rifling through the dead guys' pockets. He grabbed his knife and put it away, along with the handfuls of change he'd found.

"Hey, do you hear that?" I asked, my ears pricking up.

"Hear what?" He bent down an carefully hoisted up his stop sign, cautious of his injured shoulder.

"Dogs. They sound nearby." I looked around. The sound seemed to be coming from the direction of the warehouse.

"Yeah, you're right. But who cares? Don't you have something more important to take care of?" replied the blue jay, walking over to me.

"Yeah... let's go take care of Benson. Err, Benny."

"Sounds fun," said Mordecai with a wicked smirk.


	6. 15 16 17

**A/N: Okay, guys, not feeling too hot here, but I should be okay to pump out a few chapters here. Sorry for the long wait. It's kind of hard being in your early twenties, there's always something that needs to be done. Sorry for any unintentional typos/grammatical errors, too, I was in the hospital today and the meds are still lingering around in my system. Anyway, I love you guys, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. *heart***

**15**

"All right, Benson, where's the girl?" I asked with narrow eyes, the barrel of my gun pointed right at his nose. He stared up at me with bored disregard. I was standing on his desk again, and Mordecai, nursing his shoulder, had his eyes on the doors, in case Benny felt like surprising us with some more of his guards.

"I would really like to know," he began, in an even, reasonable, though ever so slightly irritated tone, "why you keep calling me 'Benson.' It is _not_ my name, and I find it very insulting that you keep using it."

"Uhh... well, yeah, sorry about that. It's just, I know this guy named Benson, and you kind of remind me of him, so..."

"So, let me get this straight - you actually came onto _my_ property, gunned down all of _my _guards, and are directly threatening_ my_ life, just for some GIRL that doesn't even seem to KNOW YOU?!" His calm, civil voice got louder and louder and by the end of the question he was practically screaming.

But, I was pointing a gun at him, so yeah.

"Just shoot him, already, Rigs," sighed Mordo impatiently, peering out the back door.

"Ehh..." Of course I wasn't going to shoot _Benson, _even if he was a jerkass slave trader named Benny in this universe - but I didn't want anyone else to know that. What would be the point in waving my gun around like I was in control, then?

"What would it take to get you fine, strapping _idiots_ to leave me alone?" asked Benny, tapping on his desk with one hand like some kind of impatient bureaucrat.

"Didn't I make myself clear?" I asked, grinning smugly. "I want Eileen. And if there's one scratch on her, BOOM!" I made the motion of gumballs exploding like confetti from my head.

Benny blinked at me, unimpressed.

"Anyway, as long as she's fine, then I won't hurt you. You have my word as a... a.." I looked at Mordecai.

"...One-eyed raccoon?" He shrugged.

I scowled and turned back to Benson. "Look, you just have my word, okay?" I motioned for him to get up. He did so, holding up his empty hands.

"I'm not exactly sure how much weight that statement carries," he said, with the warmth of an ice cube.

"Sorry, dude, but that's just how it is," said Mordo, sitting down in Benson's chair as I ushered him toward the door. I glanced back at him questioningly. "I'll catch right up with you, Rigs. My, uhh, shoulder's still really bothering me."

"Okay, man. Take your time, I guess."

Benny rolled his eyes.

**16**

(Eileen's POV)

I squealed as the door of the warehouse ground open, the bottom scraping reluctantly against the dirt and rocks. The dogs below me went off again, howling and growling their cute, viscious little heads off.

I couldn't hear anything else over their noise. My heart pounded. Were those voices, or was my brain just decoding the auditory overload wrong?

I bit my lip. It was a pointless, pretty thing to hope. I was an adult now. Hope was for children and the blissfully ignorant.

"Will you all SHUT THE HECK UP, ALREADY?!"

Benny's voice exploded over the sound of the dogs. What could he possibly be doing in here at this hour? Adrenaline zipped through my veins, and I gripped the bars of the cage tightly. I tried not to imagine what would happen to me if he lowered the cage into the dog pit.

Somewhat obediantly, the dogs hushed to a low snarling. My breath cought in my chest. The rogue was _back!_ And.. he was ordering Benny around at gunpoint?!

I couldn't hear what they were saying from up in the cage, but after a few back and forths, Benny walked over to the lever on the wall. He said one last thing to the stranger, and pulled it up. I flinched as the cage lurched with a start.

Attached to the pully, it wobbled unnervingly over the fence containing the dogs, tossing me around like that rare, coveted, pre-Big Hit snack known by most as "popcorn." The cage stopped, swinging, then began to lower. I clenched tightly at the bars, feeling somewhat nauseous. The descent was painfully slow.

"So you remember our deal, right?" asked Benny to the rogue, still staring at the lever. There was an odd edge in his voice.

"Y.. yeah. I won't hurt you." The stranger's eyes were fixed on me, for some reason. He was distracted. He didn't see Benny spin around, pull the revolver out of his pocket...

But I did.

"Say 'goodnight,' Rigs!" he cried euphorically, preparing to murder my handsome, mysterious savior.

"What?!" The rogue - Rigs? - turned his eyes back to Benny just in time to see the revolver skid across the floor. From the ground, Benny growled like one of his dogs, rubbing miserably at his head. I clung to the bars of the cage some more as it swung. There was a slight crack in his head where the cage had crashed into it. From the dozens of cells lining the walls of the warehouse, I heard the other slaves cheer.

I may have not been very strong, but momentum was on my side.

"What the heck?! You were going to kill me!" Rigs exclaimed as a tall blue jay with a bleeding shoulder and a bulging duffel bag jogged up to him.

"Of course I was, you idiot," grunted Benny, standing uneasily back up. "What did you expect? You gunned down all of my men! Now I have to go hire a new set, probably for much higher rates!"

"We didn't kill _all_ of them, actually," admitted the blue jay casually.

"Yeah. A few ran away."

Benny smacked himself in the forehead. "Do you honestly think that _matters..?_"

Rigs and the blue jay looked at each other and shrugged. Even though I was horribly cramped, exhausted, and sore, I couldn't help but giggle.

While the new guy locked Benny up in one of the cells and set about unlocking the rest of the slaves, my handsome savior came over with the key to the birdcage that held me. Fumbling slightly, he jammed it into the lock and started turning it this way and that.

"Sorry it took me so long, I, uhh... ran into some money troubles," he said rather awkwardly, squinting at the lock. "How's this stupid thing work, anyway?" he asked, getting irritated.

I smiled and put my hand over his. He stopped moving. I turned it in the right direction and with a click, the cage unlocked. I withdrew my hand and set my eyes on him for the first time up close...

**17**

(Rigby's POV)

Her hand on mine sent me back to the party in my own reality. Her touch had been just the same, then, so why did it feel... different, now? I got lost in my own thoughts for a bit, as everything came crashing back down on me. _Damn, they probably all hate me by now..._

I turned my eyes back up to Eileen, by accident. She was smiling at me; caked in dirt, her hair all over the place, in that grimey old dress. Even though I no longer had a fever, for some reason, my face got all hot again. So just looked so... so nice, and, despite it all... pretty.

Wait, wait, wait, WHAT? _Did I really just think that? ...Well, whatever. It's not like it matters, or anything. Eileen is Eileen. It's not like she's going to be suddenly cool or anything._

The image of her crashing the cage she was still sitting in into Benny's skull popped into my head. I looked back up at her, stupefied. "You... saved me."

She blushed, staring off to the side. "Ohhh, it was nothing."

"No, no, no, that was wicked awesome." I was freaking _mystified._ I opened the door of the cage and held out my hand to help her down. "If you hadn't done that, he'd have blown my brains out," I said.

"O-oh. Well, you know..." She fiddled with her hands, staring at her lap - but at least she was smiling. It made me feel a lot better.

_Eileen, I promise you; whether I make it back to my own reality, or end up dying in this one, I won't ever let you down again._

She shyly took my hand, but ended up losing her balance as she dropped off the cage. I grabbed onto her, tight, and was barely able to maintain my own footing, thanks to my tail. For a moment, our eyes locked...

...And I dropped her.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit. _Well, so much for that.

I wasn't too horrified, though, as she landed on her feet, smiling again. I scratched at my face, which was burning from embarrassment. No matter what the reality was, she would always stare at me, wouldn't she? At least I had all my fur this time.

Mordo came back once he was finished unlocking all the occupied cells. He was whistling pleasantly, twirling the key ring around on his feathery finger. "Whelp, that does it. We're heroes now, man."

"Heroes?" I asked, perking up. "Sweet!"

"Yep," he confirmed with the smuggest of grins. "Everyone I let out was all _we'll spread the word of Mad Man Mordo and Rigs's badassery,_ and I was like _that's cool, thanks_." He turned his head to Eileen and nodded. She waved shyly and took a slight step behind me.

"So who's this? The girl you came to rescue?"

I turned back to her. She looked just as curious as he did. I wracked my brain for some kind of sensible explanation that didn't involve reality-hopping. "Uhh... uhh... I..."

What would a badass do in this kind of situation? _...Oh yeah!_

I turned half-away and stared at the ground in a brooding kind of way. "Eileen's got a.. special place in this cold heart of mine. For some reason - maybe a knock to the head or two - she doesn't remember it, but we've shared some pretty good times in the past."

After a moment of silence to let it sink in, I turned back to them. Mordecai was grinning and nodding and Eileen was covering her mouth, face bright red.

_ Whoops. Overdid it._

Coughing awkwardly, I turned toward the door. "We should probably get going..."

"Yeah, I'm starving, anyway," said the blue jay.

I asked him to toss me the key ring and stuck it just out of reach from Benny, as quietly as I could. Mordecai and Eileen didn't notice, but Benny gave me a "what the hell is your deal" kind of look.

I knew he'd be able to reach the key and let himself out eventually - heck, I didn't want him to starve to death - but we'd be long gone by the time that happened. Probably. Anyway, when that was taken care of, I joined my friends.

"What's up with that bag, anyway?" I asked, pointing at the duffel bag Mordo was carrying on his uninjured shoulder.

"Oh, it's just all of Benny's valuables. You know, money, rare trinkets, junk like that," he explained, pulling out the oldest can of silly string I had ever seen. "This crap's gotta be worth a fortune."

Benny growled unpleasantly from back in his cell.


	7. 18 19 20

**A/N: Well, it's been almost a year, and I think it's time to stop being lazy and bring this back! For the wasteland-ing, the ass-kicking, and most importantly, THE RIGLEEN. Unfortunately I won't be able to update nearly as often as I did back when I started this fic, but I've got a plan and I intend to finish it, even if it takes me a while. So anyway, here you go guys. Enjoy.**

**18**

The sun was lowering in the sky as the three of us headed back towards Scraptown. "Augh, man, I'm _beat,"_ I sighed, turning my face up to the sky. "You sure you don't want me to carry that thing for you?" I asked Mordo, who seemed even worse than I felt, carrying both that stop sign and duffel bag with his injured shoulder.

"Nahh, I'm good," he said, gripping the bag's strap a bit tighter. I shook my head. Was he afraid I'd run off with it or something? It took me a minute to remember that just because Mordo looked exactly like Mordecai, it didn't mean they were exactly the same on the inside. That got me wondering.

I turned to Eileen. She was grinning to herself, feeling the breeze in her hair and on her skin, through that patchy dress of hers.

I shivered, even though I wasn't cold.

"H-hey, uh, how are you feeling, anyway?" I asked her, looking at the dirt and rocks in front of me.

She stumbled a bit and blushed, then laughed and looked at me. "I feel great! I've never felt better in my entire life!" The smile slowly fell, and she turned half-away, suddenly quiet. "I really wish I could ..remember," she said softly.

My stomach twisted. Yeah, I had pretty much lied to her, saying that we were old friends or whatever, but it wasn't _really _a lie, was it? I mean, I _did _know an Eileen just like her, but from another world. Still, dang, I couldn't forget that Eileen was smart. Really smart. If I started saying contradictory things, she'd catch them in a heartbeat and then want the truth, and uh, I don't know how well she'd take "I'm from a parallel reality" if I had to tell her.

Best to just play up the whole "mysterious rogue" thing, I guess.

"So is there anywhere I should take you? Is there someone you need to tell you're okay?" I said, shielding my eyes from the sun as it crept blindingly into my line of sight.

A tiny sigh came out of her. "No, not really. Wreckers destroyed my home years ago. Just like that, everyone I knew..." She shook her head, trying to get rid of the memory. "I've just been trying to make due ever since, but I made a fatal miscalculation and ended up at Benny's." To my surprise, she brightened up again. "But I'm not alone anymore! I - I have you again, and - ohh-" She covered her mouth and looked away, her face reddening.

I flexed my clawed fingers restlessly as we walked, feeling really weird. Before all this stuff happened, I probably would have said something rude to her, kind of unintentionally of course, but you know, that sort of thing just happened automatically. But now, I felt - I don't know - like I was okay with it? Yeah, sure, it was weird, but, was it really so bad..?

"Scraptown dead ahead," grunted Mordo, squinting into the distance.

"Craptown's more like it," I muttered, and Eileen giggled.

**19**

(Eileen's POV)

With a large bowl of wrapped, steaming stew, Rigs and I headed back to the hotel Mad Man Mordo said to meet him at. After spending the past few months eating nothing but the gruel-like slop Benny gave to the slaves, it smelled like a steamy, meaty heaven, and set my mouth watering uncontrollably. We also picked up some medical supplies, survival gear, and extra ammo before hitting up the local take-out place.

At the door to the hotel, Rigs stopped. "Oh, hey, I almost forgot." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some change, cradling the bowl of stew in his other arm, and held it out to me. I stared, wide-eyed. "Here. You can have this." He was looking at me like it was a casual, everyday thing, just to give someone else money for no reason.

I shook my head and shifted my weight to my other foot. "The money you got from looting Benny? I can't take that, it's yours," I said.

"It's not all of it. Come on, just take it." His mouth turned up into a crooked smile, and my heart skipped a beat.

"But I-"

"You saved my life, you know. It's yours." His eyes were firmly set on mine, and I knew there was no talking my way out of it. Nodding slightly, I held out my hand, keeping a tight grip on the other supplies, and let him place the money in my palm. "Now come on, let's go tear into this food before I keel over from the sheer amount of crap I've had to put up with today," he said, heading for the door. I followed him inside.

"Ohh, it's simply lovely to see you again so soon, Mister Wanderer!" came the cheery voice of an elderly man.

"Thanks, Pops," said Rigs, tossing down some money on the counter in front of him.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary," he said kindly, nudging the change back in our direction. "Your friend already paid for your rooms." Rigs shrugged and reclaimed the payment. Pops's attention shifted to me, and I smiled politely. "And who is your pretty lady-friend?"

"This's Eileen. She and I go way back, but her memory's a bit foggy on it, blah blah you get it. She's been through a lot. So, uh, which rooms are ours?" asked the rogue, tilting his head.

"Mister Mordo said he'll be waiting for you in room three. My, that stew smells wonderful."

"Would you like some?" I asked. He shook his head gently.

"That's quite all right my dear, I was just going to head out and get something to eat, myself. You two have a lovely evening, though! Ta-ta!" He tipped his tattered top hat to us and marched out of the building, singing happily to himself. The rogue and I watched him leave.

"He seems very upbeat," I observed, and Rigs chuckled.

"Yeah, that's Pops for ya." There was a bit of nostalgia in his voice, and, despite being a wanderer, it seemed almost like he was old friends with the man.

"Oh, have you been in this town long?"

"Uhh.. not exactly," he murmured, looking around the room as if distracted. "Let's go upstairs, okay?"

Together, we went up the rickety wooden stairs and turned the corner. There were only four doors, each one with a number in black marker drawn very neatly at eye level. I knocked on door three after Rigs tried to open it in vain.

"Yo," came Mordo's voice from the other side.

"It's us," replied Rigs, getting irritated. After some shuffling, the door opened, and Mordo stepped aside to let us in.

"That smells awesome," said Mordo, eyeing the stew.

"Eh? Really? I guess it smells okay." Rigs set it down on a small table and started looking around the room for the bowls.

_It smells "okay?" What planet is he from? Is the food better there?_

"Sit down over there," I told Mordo, opening up the box of medical supplies.

"You're not gonna stick a needle in me, or anything, right?" He frowned, backing away from me.

"Don't be silly, they don't have access to that kind of medicine in this town. I'm just going to fix up your shoulder a bit, that's all," I told him. Honestly, the guy takes down an entire slave operation with one other person, and he's afraid of a little needle?

"Yeah _Mordo, _it's not like Eileen's going to perform open heart surgery out here." Rigs laughed, spooning the stew into three bowls.

"Actually, back in my hometown I was training to be a doctor," I explained, lightly dabbing the blue jay's bloody shoulder with a cloth dipped in antiseptic. Rigs dropped the spoon, making a little mess, and swore to himself.

"It'll be pretty handy having you around the- ow-" Mordo winced and I drew back a little, biting my lip.

"Sorry! Sorry. I'll be more careful. You can still move it, right?"

Gritting his teeth, I moved his arm around in every way he could think of, grunting occasionally with the pain. "Yeah, seems like it."

"That's good, it's not broken anywhere, then. It should heal fine as long as you lay easy on it for a while," I told him as Rigs turned to us, holding two bowls of soup. I finished bandaging Mordo up and tucked the medical supplies away.

"Eh, if you say so. I guess I wouldn't mind a break. This money should last a while, anyway, and I've still got the pre-Hit junk to hawk." He picked up his own bowl of soup and the small spoon. "I'm gonna take this to my room and pass out. Talk to you guys tomorrow, okay?"

He turned and headed for the door, but Rigs stopped him. "So uh, which one's my room, again?"

"Dude, you're standing in it," said Mordo.

"Okay," he sighed, getting impatient. "Which one's Eileen's then?"

"Uhh. You're standing in it," he repeated.

My eyes went wide, and the rogue opened his mouth, as if to say something, then closed it again.

Then opened it again and stared.

"You mean, you didn't want to share a room with your old girlfriend?" he asked, and I accidentally squeeked. "Sorry, man, I just assumed-"

"No, no, no, IT'S FINE GET OUT," snapped Rigs, suddenly pushing Mordo the rest of the way out the door.

"Oh! Rigs! Be careful, he's injured-" I warned.

"Talk to you tomorrow!" He said with a glare, and slammed the door.

"Uh, right," came Mordo's muffled voice from the other side, before he went to his own room.

"Look, I'll just sleep on the floor, okay?" I told him uncomfortably, getting off the bed I had been sitting on. If we really were as close as Rigs said, why was he so afraid to share a room with me? Maybe he was just nervous...

"Freakin' mirrors," he muttered, and I wondered if he had actually heard me. He threw himself on the small bed, face-down, let out a long sigh, and ceased moving. Was he not even hungry anymore?

I frowned at him in concern. Maybe he was mad at me... I didn't want to deal with that, not now. I inched over to the door, awkwardly. "I think I'm gonna... go out for a bit," I said meekly, but the only response was a soft snoring sound fom the bed.

**20**

(Rigby's POV)

_ Mirrors, broken mirrors, everywhere._

_ Surrounding me, closing in on me; shattered glass and razor death._

_ Flashing lights and foggy, formless faces._

_ Hollow eyes and a skeletal grin._

I woke up, cold and hot and damp all over. I couldn't remember a lot about the dream, but for some reason it really freaked me out. I was gasping for air, but it wasn't really doing anything for me. I held up my hand and damn it, I was shaking again.

The door creaked and the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen walked in.

Her hair was brushed but somehow still just so out of place to look wild; a bandana tied around her neck to shield against the dirt, a long, weather-beaten leather jacket that was just a bit too big for her around her shoulders, that ratty dress long gone, dark short shorts with ripped fringe at the edge, and tall brown boots that ran up her smooth, tanned legs.

Did I forget to mention that this Eileen seemed to be missing her glasses?

I gawked at her, my mind completely blank, and I thought, _How the hell can_ Eileen _look like _this_?_

She saw me staring at her like some kind of creep and I finally got the sense to snap my jaw shut. "How'd you sleep?" she asked, smiling, and closed the door behind her.

"You - you went out?" I asked, unable to bring myself to communicate properly.

"Oh, yeah. I uh, wanted to get some new clothes."

"Good taste," I said, painfully aware of what an idiot I was being, then laughed awkwardly and looked away.

"Thanks," she said, and she actually sounded kind of happy. I let out a long, silent sigh. Okay, maybe I was acting like a total creep, but at least she didn't seem to think so.

I took notice of something resting on her hip, sticking out slightly from underneath her jacket. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at it.

I nearly fell off the bed when she casually took out Benny's revolver, holding it up with a familiar sense of... familiarity. "I picked this up when we left Benny's place. Oh, it's not loaded. Hang on." My jaw was open again, and I had a hard time getting it to close as she pulled six bullets out of a zippered pocket and quickly loaded them into the chambers before closing the cylinder and placing it back in the holster.

"Oh," I said.

_ Eileen's got a gun._

_ Eileen can use a gun._

_ Eileen is a total badass. _

"Um, Rigs?" Her slightly concerned tone brought me back to reality in that dusty, dirty little hotel room, on that stiff, rickety bed with her by the door. "Are you okay?"

I coughed, and fidgeted around, trying to find something to distract myself with. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm good, I'm awesome. So, uh, how about that stew?" I asked, picking up the bowls with a vacant laugh. She grinned and I swear it was the most fantastic thing I'd seen all day.


End file.
